


Crossed Wires

by thewesterndoor



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Frottage, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Miscommunication, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewesterndoor/pseuds/thewesterndoor
Summary: Yuuri can't figure out why Viktor seems so uninterested in talking about Valentine's Day plans, but that's not going to stop him from trying to plan the best date ever.Based on a prompt from Tumblr.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a Tumblr prompt by adulta-infantil. I had my nerdcation about to start and it seemed like the perfect fic to work on.
> 
> As ever, I have to give thanks to nekoshka who helped me wrangle all of my errant commas and wandering verbs. Seriously, she is the best beta reader ever.
> 
> Many thanks for reading, and especially to those who leave kudos/comments--it always means so much ❤️

“So what are you doing for Valentine’s Day?”

Yuuri’s heart stopped as he stared at Phichit’s smiling face on the laptop screen.

“Is that…when is that? That’s not  _ today _ ?” Yuuri said as he fumbled for his phone to check the date.

As the screen lit up, the bright flare of panic in his chest subsided. It was still only the 7th. It might be tight, but at least Yuuri had a fighting chance. Last year, after the mad rush to get ready for Four Continents  _ and _ the move to Russia, he and Viktor hadn’t even realized it  _ was _ Valentine’s Day until the day after when they’d seen all of the half-price chocolate at the grocery store. 

Through the speakers, Yuuri heard Phichit’s tinny laugh.

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Again. I would’ve thought this would be your holiday.”

Yuuri looked up from his phone to stare at his best friend.

“What do you mean? You know better than anyone that I wasn’t exactly celebrating Valentine’s Day in America—I never had someone to celebrate with. And at home…it was just a day where Yuuko and some of the girls from school would give me obligation chocolate. Shit…do you think I should make Viktor something?” 

Yuuri’s limbs started to go numb with a fresh wave of panic as he realized that he had no idea what to do for Valentine’s Day. He could try to make chocolates, but just the week before Viktor had been talking about cutting out refined sugar. Or he could go with the big American spectacle that Yuuri had always seen on TV, but where could they even go? Yuuri had been living in St. Petersburg close to a year, but in that time he’d seen little more than the rink, the grocery store, and the dog park. 

“Calm down, Yuuri.”

Phichit’s words sliced through the swirling thoughts tightening around Yuuri’s chest, allowing him to take a deep breath and lower his shoulders back from where they’d hunched up around his ears.

“What am I going to do?”

“Don’t worry,” Phichit said, his tone the same one Yuuri used when Makkachin had her head stuck in the cookie jar. “The two of you can make a random Tuesday—the least sexy of all the days—romantic; this holiday is made for you. You’ll be fine. You could choose literally anywhere and Viktor would be posting on Instagram about how romantic you are.”

Yuuri tugged at his hair and groaned.

“But I want it to be  _ properly _ romantic. Something to show Viktor how much he means to me—like a thank you—”

“Says the person who proposed at Christmas in Barcelona. Yuuri, you can do this in your sleep.”

“But I didn’t plan that! It just kind of happened,” Yuuri said as he dropped his face into his hands. “What do I do?”

There was the sound of rapid-fire typing, followed by the buzz of Yuuri’s phone as a series of texts came in.

“Okay, so I just sent you lists of the top ten romantic spots in St. Petersburg, the best reviewed restaurants, and all of my romance playlists from Spotify.”

“But how am I going to get a reservation this late? Especially if it’s good enough to make a list?”

“Yuuri, you’re engaged to one of the most decorated figure skaters in history, I’m pretty sure they’ll find you a table. Now, you just have to keep it a surprise—”

“A surprise?” Yuuri finally looked up, catching Phichit’s mischievous smile.

“Yes! Surprises always make things sexier. Make it seem all casual, and then BOOM! You show up in a suit—the nice one Viktor chose, not the one from your JSF banquet—and he’ll be even more in love.” Phichit’s eyes practically sparkled as he spoke.

Yuuri took a slow, deep breath and nodded.

“Okay. I can handle this.”

“Yes, you can!”

“I’m going to plan the most amazing Valentine’s Day ever so Viktor will know how much I love him. Wait—are you…crying?”

“Shut up,” Phichit said affectionately as he brushed away tears. “I’m just so proud of my boy. He’s all grown up.”

Heat flooded Yuuri’s cheeks as he shook his head.

“Good night. And thanks.”

He hit the end call button before Phichit could tease him some more, and then started to read through the first link his friend had sent. 

#

Yuuri was doing his best to read the glossy magazine he’d been leafing through for the past half hour. Apparently there was a nice writeup on Viktor’s return to skating as well as an in-depth profile on Yurio, but the letters kept blurring in front of his eyes, his attention drifting to where Viktor sat with a book in one hand and the other resting lightly on Yuuri’s ankle.

After his talk with Phichit, it had taken Yuuri two days to find the time—and the privacy—to make any decisions about their secret Valentine’s plans. While Viktor had been in his coaching sessions with Yakov and Yuuri was supposed to be doing weights or cardio, he’d snuck off to pore over websites on his phone, toggling back and forth between tabs with reviews and a Russian dictionary as he’d agonized over what to choose. Finally, he’d narrowed it down to dinner and music, but that’s where he’d gotten stuck.

Sneaking another glance at Viktor, at the way his silvery hair swung forward in front of his face and his reading glasses slid down his nose, Yuuri felt his heart actually ache with how much he cared for that man. As if sensing the weight of Yuuri’s thoughts directed at him, Viktor turned his head to look at Yuuri. A year after Yuuri had followed him to Russia—two years after he’d started coaching Yuuri—and his blue eyes still lit up in a way that made Yuuri’s bones melt and his breath stall. Viktor’s fingers stroked along the top of Yuuri’s bare foot and smiled sweetly.

“Something you want to talk about?” said Viktor.

Yuuri swallowed, pulling his thoughts back in line.

“Uh, not really. I was just trying to decide…” Yuuri still hadn’t actually come up with an excuse to ask Viktor whether he would rather go to a jazz bar that promised torch songs all night or to a restaurant with a Michelin star followed by a Liszt concert. Either would probably be  _ fine _ for a date, but Yuuri didn’t want fine, he wanted perfect—Viktor  _ deserved _ perfect. “I’ve been struggling with what music I want to choreograph the beginner’s class Spring Finale routine to—do you think Edith Piaf? Or maybe a Romantic—like Liszt? Which do you prefer?”

Viktor laughed and settled his hand back down on Yuuri’s ankle.

“For that group? Wouldn’t it be better to choose some K-pop? Oh, or they might be happy with Adele.”

“Right. Of course.”

They settled back into their quiet evening, the silence only broken by a dry scratching as Viktor turned the pages of his book and the soft snuffles from where Makkachin slept on the rug nearby.

Finally, as Yuuri’s churning thoughts were about to drown him, he tried again.

“So, uh Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Yuuri said, sure that Viktor must be able to hear the desperation in his voice.

“Oh is it?” Viktor said, not even looking up this time.

“Uh, yeah. I was wondering if you…if you wanted to do something. Like a date?” Yuuri was willing to sacrifice some amount of surprise for the sake of his nerves—he just wouldn’t tell Phichit.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, one finger rising up to tap at his bottom lip.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it. Worlds is coming up, and you’ve been working so hard,” Viktor said before he gave Yuuri another smile and turned back to his book.

“Oh.”

All this time Yuuri had assumed that Viktor would  _ want _ to do something special, but it had never occurred to him that maybe Viktor didn’t care. Suddenly, he was aware of how long it had been since they had gone out on anything that could properly be considered a date. The talks of setting a wedding date had even quieted down. Yuuri had told himself it was just the madness of adjusting to a new city and of Viktor finding a rhythm between his own training and coaching Yuuri, but was it possible that they were in a rut? He didn’t doubt that Viktor still loved him, but what if that love had changed? What if Viktor had realized that it was only friendship that he felt for Yuuri and he didn’t feel romantically towards him anymore?

Viktor gave Yuuri’s ankle a final squeeze and then stood up. Instantly, Makkachin––who had been sprawled out fast asleep––bounced to her feet, though her eyes were still sleepy as she gave them a doggy smile.

“I’m going to take a shower and then head off to bed. Don’t stay up too late,” Viktor said. He passed behind the back of the couch, dropping a kiss on top of Yuuri’s head before he continued past to the bedroom.

Yuuri watched Viktor’s back as he walked away and felt his resolve harden. If there was any chance that Viktor’s indifference to Valentine’s Day meant that his affection was waning, then it was Yuuri’s job to show him how much he was loved—to remind him of why they’d fallen in love. He  _ needed _ to do something for the day, and it had to be better than perfect.

He tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and dug out his phone. Time for him to go back to the drawing board and hope that with five days, he had enough time to put together something worthy of Viktor.

#

It was now two days until Valentine’s Day, and Yuuri had finally managed to nail down his plans. After Viktor’s indifference, Yuuri had regrouped with Phichit—it had taken an hour his friend assuring him that Viktor was still sickeningly in love with him, followed by another hour of Googling alternative date ideas.

In quick order, he’d found a website that could deliver the Super Deluxe Lovey-Dovey Couple Basket by the evening of the 14th—he wasn’t entirely sure what was in the basket, but it had five star reviews and would arrive on time. With so few days left, Yuuri had decided that would have to do, and he added a reminder into his calendar for  _ next _ January to start shopping for a gift early.

The date activity itself had continued to be a problem. Yuuri tried to find subtle ways to ask Viktor’s opinion and to get him to keep the evening open, but at every turn, he was met with the same lukewarm reaction. Viktor would just smile and tell him not to worry about it, and every time Yuuri could feel another piece of his confidence crumble away.

It took Phichit calling to demand that he just be bold and make it happen for Yuuri to finally make a decision. He quickly scrapped the concert idea––after a full day of training, sitting in a dark room to listen to music was more likely to put them to sleep than put them in the mood for romance. Instead, he’d found a small bistro that had good reviews, and since they didn’t take reservations, Yuuri’s lack of planning wouldn’t be a problem. The menu made it sound like the sort of place where Yuuri would gain weight just by reading the descriptions, but for this special day, it would be worth it. And nearby the restaurant was the kissing bridge. After dinner, they could stroll up to the bridge, attach a lock and share a romantic good luck kiss.

Carefully, keeping one eye on the open doorway to the bedroom where Viktor had gone to dress for the day, Yuuri texted the itinerary to Phichit.

Immediately he saw the ellipsis as Phichit typed a response.

_ It looks great!!! V will luv it!!!! Take lotssss of picss :) _

Yuuri wished that he could be as confident as his friend.

He forced himself to take a slow breath in, focusing on the pull of air in through his nose and out through his mouth rather than the familiar doubts.

_ Thanks _ , he typed.  _ Going to b the best Vday ever! _

_ Who are u and wht hv u done w Yuuri? _

Yuuri smiled down at the screen before sending a frowny sticker.

“Something good?” Viktor asked, appearing in the doorway.

He was dressed in the oatmeal coloured cable-knit sweater that always made Yuuri want to cuddle up with him in a log cabin somewhere while they drank cider, like they lived in an Eddie Bauer catalogue or something.

“Just chatting with Phichit.”

“Tell him I say hi. You ready to go?”

Nodding, Yuuri rose up from the couch. He tucked his phone into the skate bag by his feet, hauling it up before he followed Viktor to the door.

“So...” Yuuri started to say before he could stop himself.

“Hmm?” Viktor turned his attention up from where he’d started to wrap a scarf around Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri wanted to bring up Valentine’s Day again. It was like a scab that he couldn’t stop himself from picking at, but he wasn’t sure how many more times he could hear Viktor tell him not to bother or not to worry. At this point, he just needed to trust that it would be okay. Once they were on the date and Yuuri was able to show Viktor how important he was to him—that this date was Yuuri’s way of thanking him for all of the love he’d brought into Yuuri’s life—it would go exactly like every fantasy that Yuuri had built over the past few days. And at least, from the way Viktor had been acting, Yuuri knew that there was no chance that Viktor had planned anything.

“Oh, just wondered if we should invite Yurio over for dinner tonight? I think Yakov and Lilia could use an evening off. They all looked a little...frayed yesterday.”

Viktor gave him a curious look, but nodded. “Probably a good idea. I’d hate it if we had an attempted murder scandal at the rink. Again.”

“Wait. What?”

As they walked out the door, Viktor regaled him with twenty year-old rink gossip, leaving Yuuri breathless with laughter. But in the back of his mind, on an endless loop, was the hope that he wasn’t wrong and that Valentine’s Day would be everything he needed.

#

“You look handsome, Yuuri,” Mila said as she darted around him in the lobby of the rink. “All ready for your big night tonight?”

“Gross,” Yurio drawled, close on her heels.

Yuuri smiled at the two, wondering when he’d mentioned his date plans to Mila. Over the past year he’d got to know her fairly well—especially as his Russian and her English had improved—but they didn’t usually talk about things like that.

“Uh, yes?” Yuuri said.

Mila’s eyes twinkled and she leaned in, her lips pursed as if she was about to speak. But before she could get a word out, Yurio’s elbow slammed into her ribs. She squeaked in pain and whipped her head around to glare at him.

“What’s that about?” She demanded.

“You need to shut up,” Yurio hissed.

Yuuri looked between the pair, trying to figure out what was going on. In all the time that he’d been at the rink, he still hadn’t been able to figure out Yurio and Mila. At times they were the best of friends, and at others they seemed closer to…well, siblings.

“It’s okay, Yurio. And yes, I’m all prepared for tonight—I just hope that Viktor likes what I’ve planned.” Yuuri smiled, trying to mask the anxiety rising up as the time to text Viktor loomed closer.

“You made plans?” Yurio said.

Heat flooded Yuuri’s cheeks, but he did his best to keep his gaze level as he nodded.

“Yes. Viktor has always done so much and I just wanted to make the day special for him.”

Yurio’s green eyes widened, his mouth opening, and then he let out a bark of laughter.

“You two are idiots. Gross idiots. I hope you have a nice night. C’mon, hag, you promised me dinner if I helped you break up with that speed skater.” Yurio grabbed hold of Mila’s sleeve and dragged her out the front door of the rink.

Before the doors closed behind them, Mila turned to call back over her shoulder.

“Good luck!”

And then, Yuuri was on his own. 

Today was one of the days where Viktor finished before him. He had gone home to take Makkachin for a walk and give her dinner, leaving Yuuri to have his ballet session with Lilia and giving him the perfect chance to secretly get ready for their date. That morning, Yuuri had carefully packed his suit—the black wool one that Viktor had bought him on their last trip to Tokyo—into his skating bag. As soon as Lilia had let him stagger out of the dance studio, he’d gone to shower and dress. Now it was just a matter of texting Viktor.

Yuuri took one deep breath and then pulled out his phone. Quickly, he tapped out a message to Viktor.

_ Hey! Just finished up here and omw home soon. Want to meet up for dinner? _

It sounded just casual enough—like any of the other hundreds of post-training texts they’d sent each other—that Viktor shouldn’t suspect a thing.

There was a few minutes’ wait where Yuuri could feel his nervous heart beat in his wrists and ears, and then finally he heard the ding of a reply.

_ Not sure. Have some stuff to do tonight.  _

Yuuri’s heart stopped. This was not how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t even how it went when Yuuri was just asking if Viktor wanted to meet up at the nearby curry shop; the response should’ve been yes followed by heart emojis, but Yuuri wasn’t sure how to respond to  _ this _ .

_ Oh. Did I forget something? _ Yuuri texted back.

_ No. Just some stuff I have to wrap up. You coming home now? Will probably be out for a bit—can you give Makka her second walk?  _ 🐩

Yuuri went numb to the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet. Viktor had been weird all week, and now this?

He quickly typed out,  _ Sure _ , and then turned off his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. His fingers brushed against the cold weight of the padlock at the bottom and his throat started to ache with the effort of holding back tears. At least when he got home, he wouldn’t have to worry about hiding his tears from Viktor. As soon as he got home, he’d change out of his suit and into his rattiest sweats, take Makka for her walk, have a good cry, and then he’d work his way through whatever food was in the Super Deluxe Lovey-Dovey Couple Basket—Yuuri was hoping for cheese and sparkling wine. He would have a fucking  _ grand _ time without Viktor.

#

Because the universe was clearly cruel and indifferent, there was absolutely no cheese in the Super Deluxe Lovey-Dovey Couple Basket. When Yuuri and Makkachin had returned from the park it had been waiting on the doormat in front of the flat, the pink cellophane practically glowing in the light of the hallway. After he’d taken Makka’s leash off and let her into the flat, he’d plucked up the basket and dropped it onto the kitchen table.

With more brutality than was strictly necessary, Yuuri had wielded his kitchen shears, cutting off the red ribbon and tearing apart the cellophane. Inside there was a bottle of sparkling wine—though it was a  _ ros _ _ é _ —as well as a collection that looked like someone had just taken the bestseller items off a Sexy Girl party catalogue: there was a satin eye mask, a pair of lacy garters, Fun Fur trimmed handcuffs, a box labelled Lustre Dust, and what appeared to be enough condoms and lube for an orgy.

Yuuri just stared at the basket, wondering if he’d maybe been a terrible person in a previous life, before he grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and pulled it out. He swung past the fridge to grab the container of guacamole, fished out the tortilla chips from the hiding spot that Viktor didn’t think he knew about, and then went straight to the couch.

Within a minute, Makkachin had hurried over to climb up beside him. He liked to think it was because she knew he needed the comfort, but he couldn’t discount the possibility that she was there for the chips.

He popped the cork and took a sip straight from the bottle. When your fianc é was being evasive and had abandoned you on Valentine’s Day, you didn’t have to bother with things like glasses; if anything, Yuuri was pretty sure that circumstances like this required you to drink straight from the bottle. They also probably required ice cream, but Worlds was close enough that he wasn’t willing to go that far.

Once Yuuri was settled, he grabbed his laptop and then pushed the latest episode of  _ Beat Bobby Flay _ onto the TV. If he was going to have a terrible Valentine’s Day, then why not double down and watch people cooking food he couldn’t dream of eating for another couple of months?

Within minutes, he was shoving guac into his face and yelling at Bobby Flay’s smug face.

Two hours and five episodes later, Yuuri had finished half the bottle of wine and all of the chips, and he’d moved past his tears to a fine mist of anger. When he heard the click of the front door opening and Makkachin ran off to greet Viktor, Yuuri was ready for a fight.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, his voice breathy as he hurried over, not bothering to take his coat or shoes off. His eyes were a little wild and his hair looked as though he’d been raking his fingers through it. “Why weren’t you answering my texts? Where have you been?”

Yuuri drew his knees up close to his chest and pulled the afghan on his lap in more tightly, his gaze never leaving the TV screen. On it, someone was preparing a chipotle chicken dish.

_ Fool _ , Yuuri thought,  _ the judges should’ve chosen the baker. Everyone knows you go with pastry to beat Bobby. Not fucking Southwest. _

“Where were you?” Viktor said again. He hurried over to the couch and grabbed hold of one of Yuuri’s hands.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri said, his tone icy, though he couldn’t stop his gaze from sliding over to Viktor. Even seeing the pained expression on Viktor’s face was enough to melt some of Yuuri’s hurt, which just made him angrier.

“I’ve been texting you for the past hour and a half. You were supposed to come meet me down by the cathedral!”

Yuuri pulled his hand free and glared at the screen.

“The last thing I heard, you weren’t sure about doing anything tonight and you were going to be out for a while.  _ I _ came home, walked Makkachin like  _ you _ asked, and have been here the whole time wondering why I even bothered to try to plan anything for Valentine’s Day.” Tears threaded through Yuuri’s voice and he had to blink to stop himself from crying right there.

“You planned something? But I told you not to worry about it!”

Finally, Yuuri turned to actually look at Viktor, his vision swimming as the tears started tracing hot tracks down his cheeks.

“What’s so bad about me wanting to plan something for you?! Is it so terrible that I wanted to have a romantic Valentine’s? That I wanted to show you how much I love you?”

Viktor stared at him, before he finally sank down on the couch beside Yuuri and pulled him against his chest. Yuuri managed to resist him for all of a second before he went limp and buried his face in the collar of Viktor’s coat.

“There’s nothing terrible about it, nothing terrible at all, it’s just that…I didn’t want you to worry because  _ I  _ made plans for us _.  _ I’d been hoping that you would forget about Valentine’s completely—like last year—and I could surprise you, but when you started talking about doing something…I kind of panicked.”

“You made plans?”

“Yes! If you’d check your phone you’d see texts from me, telling you to put on the good suit and meet me.”

Yuuri pulled his head back to look up at Viktor warily.

“When I texted you earlier, I was  _ in _ my good suit. I wanted to take you to that bistro close to the river. And then, we would go for a walk to the bridge—I had bought a lock and everything.”

Viktor’s fingers froze where they’d been stroking Yuuri’s hair, and his eyes widened for a second before he smiled, shaking his head.

“I know it’s not much—you probably had something more extravagant planned—”

“I had planned the exact same thing. Like literally the same thing. I think we even chose the same restaurant…”

Viktor’s fingers moved down Yuuri’s head towards his neck, trailing along the bare skin in a way that sent shivers down his spine and heat coiling low in his belly.

“So you haven’t fallen out of love with me? Or regret bringing me back to Russia with you?”

Strong fingers slid around to Yuuri’s jaw and tilted his head back for a moment before his mouth was claimed in a fierce kiss that left them panting against each other.

“I don’t know when you’ll stop thinking you’ll be so easily rid of me, but I am completely yours. Until my last breath, and probably even beyond—”

“You’re going to follow me as a ghost?” Yuuri said with a smile.

“Yes! I’ll…I’d follow you as a ghost and wait for you until we can move on together. Or haunt some nice chic apartment. Whatever you want, I’m not picky.”

Viktor pressed another kiss to Yuuri’s lips that sent his head spinning, warmth spreading out from his chest to fill his whole body. Yuuri moved in closer, sliding onto Viktor’s lap. Already he could feel the urgent press of Viktor’s erection against his trousers, and when Yuuri traced the bulge he heard Viktor hiss, hips rising up to chase the touch.

One-handed, Yuuri undid the fastenings of Viktor’s trousers, working at the cloth until he’d freed his erection. He wrapped his fist around it, pumping slowly and enjoying the searing heat against his palm. When he pressed his thumb against the slit, sliding through the bead of precum, he revelled in the moan that tore through Viktor. With his other hand, Yuuri speared his fingers through Viktor’s hair, scraping his nails along Viktor’s scalp and eliciting another moan. He tugged Viktor’s head closer and this time it was Yuuri who was leading the frenzied kiss. His tongue swept through Viktor’s mouth, the taste more intoxicating than the bottle of ros é , and this time it was his own moan that was rattling free from his chest.

Viktor’s hands had slid down to Yuuri’s waist, his palms scalding even through the cloth of Yuuri’s t-shirt. They urged Yuuri closer until his hips were pressed up against where his own fist was still leisurely pumping Viktor’s cock.

“So close,” Viktor moaned when Yuuri twisted his hand in the exact way that Viktor liked.

“Yeah?” Yuuri breathed against Viktor’s ear, earning a deep shudder.

“You too. I want to feel you,” Viktor said before he fumbled at the front of Yuuri’s sweats, drawing the waistband down over Yuuri’s cock.

And then Viktor’s hand was on him, the other tugging them closer still until Yuuri’s cock was rubbing against Viktor’s. A shiver rippled out from the base of Yuuri’s spine down to his toes, and he shut his eyes, his teeth bearing down on his bottom lip.

Viktor wrapped his hand around the both of them and started to pump at an unrelenting pace, leaving Yuuri to just rock into the touch, his fingers gripping Viktor’s shoulders.

Already his climax was close, bearing down on him with breakneck speed. He had just enough time to kiss Viktor, pouring every drop of feeling he could into it, before the heavy pressure that had been building low in his gut finally released. Pleasure flooded every one of his nerve endings and his thoughts went blissfully blank as his orgasm swept through him. He heard himself cry out, followed shortly by Viktor’s deeper cry, and felt the hot splash of their releases against the hand that was still trapped between them.

Yuuri slumped against Viktor, laying his cheek against Viktor’s broad shoulder and pressing kisses to his neck.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor tugged his hand out between the two of them and pulled Yuuri flush.

“You too. I love you. Will you marry me?”

“We’re already engaged,” Yuuri said, though Viktor’s words were like a flare inside his chest, hot and bright.

“So, maybe it’s time we start to talk about setting a date.”

“Maybe it is.” Yuuri had to hide his smile in the collar of Viktor’s shirt. It was only then that he realized that they were still almost entirely dressed—Viktor even still had his coat on.

Rising up from Viktor’s lap, Yuuri stood up and adjusted his sweats to tuck himself back in, trying to ignore the mess of cum. Tomorrow he’d worry about laundry, but tonight it was more important for him to get Viktor naked.

He stretched out one hand and took Viktor’s larger one in his. Gently, he led Viktor off the couch and across the living room towards their bedroom.

“I don’t know if you saw what’s in the kitchen, but I got you a present.”

“Yeah?” Viktor said, leaning in for another kiss.

“Yup.”

Yuuri pushed Viktor’s winter coat off, followed by his suit jacket, and then started on the line of buttons on his dress shirt. As each inch of pale skin was revealed, Yuuri’s cock started to twitch in renewed interest.

“What did you get me?” Viktor panted as he tugged at Yuuri’s t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

Once Yuuri was free, he tossed the t-shirt onto the floor and smiled. He gave Viktor a quick parting kiss and darted off to the kitchen.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined after him but Yuuri didn’t so much as look back.

He grabbed the basket off the table and hurried back to the bedroom. He shot Makkachin an apologetic look and then closed the door. He’d make sure they took her for an extra long walk tomorrow.

With a smile, Yuuri passed the basket over to Viktor and felt a glow at the slow sexy smile that curved across Viktor’s face and the heavy look in his eyes.

“The wine is gone—mostly gone—but I like to think of the rest as our challenge for the night.”

Viktor pulled out the handcuffs, letting the fluffy bracelet dangle from one finger. He lifted one silvery eyebrow.

“Consider it your punishment,” Yuuri said.

“Oh?”

“Yup. I’m not letting you out of here until we’ve tried everything in that basket at least once.”

Viktor’s smile was broad and sharp and in a flash he’d backed Yuuri onto the bed. The two fell until Yuuri was against the mattress with Viktor’s weight bearing down on him.

“Challenge accepted.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at thewesterndoor


End file.
